


Going Home

by hiasobi_writes



Series: Home [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hiasobi_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Stiles is slamming him up against the wall a second later, a rare display of the advantage his werewolf blood gives him over Derek. But Derek doesn't shy away, just stares Stiles down, strong and angry.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"That wasn't the deal."</em>
</p><p>Human!Derek/Always-a-Werewolf!Stiles AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halona (BoudicaMuse)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoudicaMuse/gifts).



> So, this was originally part of my wider always-a-werewolf!Stiles verse, but then this went and grew a pair of legs, and then _that_ went and grew a pair of legs and now they're two totally separate things. Which is probably a good thing because I wasn't going to let this stay in hiding while I worked on the other verse because this would have come at the end of that. So, here you go! Werewolf!Stiles and human!Derek, for your enjoyment.
> 
> Also, I fussed with the relative ages (to deal with my personal squick factor and because canon makes less than no sense so I'm allowed to do what I want), making Stiles only 5 years older than Derek et al instead of the more generally accepted 7.
> 
> This takes place three years after what would be canon, making Derek 19 and Stiles 24. Derek was kinda sorta _totally_ into Stiles in high school, but they talked about it, and Stiles said he had to go to college and date someone else first. Derek took that edict rather liberally. Originally inspired by [these](http://hiaplayswithfire.tumblr.com/post/25611741878/02-05-25-pictures-of-tyler-hoechlin-x) shots, but then it grew into something else altogether.

Christy's the one that talks him into it. She's Allie's best friend and does all the make-up for Allie's shoots, and from the first time she ineffectively hits on Derek he can tell that there's something more than sex on her mind. It takes three ~~ambushes~~ coffee dates before he agrees to hear her out.

He knows he's in the second she splays Allie's shots out on the table. Because if there's one way to get to Stiles, it's by reminding him what he doesn't have.

\----

He stays fully clothed for the first two shoots. Allie doesn't seem to care, but Christy keeps pushing gently at it.

"I've seen you at the pick-up lacrosse games, Derek. You've got a hell of a body on you."

Derek just shakes his head; he doesn't know what Stiles is looking for, but he's pretty sure it isn't what he is right now. When he's feeling a bit more confident, when he has a few more shoots under his belt, when Laura says it's working. Maybe then. But not now.

\----

_Nice going, handsome. ;)_

Laura texts him back after he sends her an e-mail with his favorite shot from his fourth time out. He's not sure what it means, but he can take a guess. And he likes what it might mean.

He makes sure to send her at least one shot from the other five shoots he does before the end of the school year, and the response is almost always the same, with the exception of the seventh shoot, when she actually calls him to tell him, through undisguised laughter, that Stiles had taken one look at the shot she'd sent him and sent her and the rest of the pack away fifteen minutes into training. Derek hadn't let himself hope too hard, but it wasn't easy. If Stiles was starting to crack--

But he'd have to wait until the summer to find out for sure.

\----

Stiles is outside when Derek finally pulls up less than five hours after his plan landed for summer break. He glances in Derek's direction, but that's all he does. Even when Derek opens the door and slides out as easily as if he'd never left, Stiles makes no move to acknowledge him.

They have a silent stand-off for a good five minutes before Derek finally caves.

"What, no hello for your favorite human?"

Stiles pauses in whatever it is he'd been doing with the house to turn and look at him fully. "And who would that be?"

Derek chucks his water bottle at Stiles, fighting the urge to pout when he dodges it all too easily. "Asshole."

Stiles just laughs at him. "It's good to see you, short stuff. How was freshman year?"

"It's school," Derek says with a shrug, "there's really not a lot to tell. At least, nothing that Laura hasn't already told you."

The silence is heavy with the implications. Derek tries to wait Stiles out, but his eyes are hard and unforgiving on Derek, and he doesn't actually think Stiles is going to do anything. So he makes the first move for the both of them.

"I brought prints," he says, letting the cheek slip into his tone.

The reaction isn't at all what he was expecting. Instead of darting toward him with a playful growl, Stiles zips across the yard in complete silence and pins the offending hand to the top of Laura's car. He plucks out the top shot -- seventh shoot, fourth round of shots, and the one that Laura said had made Stiles send all of them away -- and stares at it inquisitively. Then he drops it, and takes Derek's other hand, raising it to pin it on the other side of his head, level with the first. "You don't know what you're asking of me, Derek."

"I know enough."

"No. No, you really don't."

"Then explain it to me."

Stiles' face twists. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"You do if you're going to push this lack of a relationship off on me. If this is about you being afraid, or angry, or whatever the hell you are, fine. Make it about that. But don't pretend that this is about me when I've been ready for this from day one."

"That's the problem! Did you even _try_ seeing other people when you were at school?"

"Yes." Stiles' face flashes with something, but it's gone too fast for Derek to identify. "I tried. Two different girls and five different guys. All of them excellent. None of them you."

"If that's what you're measuring by--"

"It's not like that, Stiles, and you know it. Max was could hold a hell of a conversation, but he didn't know how to give me my space when I needed it. Julianne gave me all the space I needed, but she was never really completely there. Clayton was gorgeous, and smart, but he didn't have a loyal bone in his body. Do I need to keep going? Because if you want me to, you should probably stop trying to _break my wrists_."

Stiles jumps back like he's been stung. Derek drops his hands and rubs at his wrists, trying to work the pain out of them. As he flexes his hand, he looks up to see Stiles staring at his wrists with wide, frightened eyes. Derek just blinks at him.

Stiles shakes himself off and backs away. "You should go."

"What?"

"You should go."

Derek's first -- and, to be honest, only -- reaction is anger. "I'm not going anywhere, Stiles."

"I'm not... I'm not safe to be around right now. You need to go."

"You're never safe to be around, Stiles. At least, according to you, you aren't. But we both know better than that. I'm never safer than when I'm with you."

"You're giving me too much credit."

"I'm giving you exactly the right amount of credit. I may not have wanted this life, but now that I've got it, I'm safer with you than without you." When Stiles looks unconvinced, Derek barrels on. "Do you know that I had two different werewolves come find me at school to ask about my pack? Because I am pack, Stiles, no matter how much you might wish otherwise. I'm pack because of Laura, and damned if I'm not pack because of you too. I'm here, and I'll be here until I'm dead and gone. And there's nothing you can do about it."

Stiles is staring at Derek like he's never seen him before. Then he blinks, and looks away. "I never said I don't want you in the pack, and I certainly never said that you _weren't_ pack," he mutters.

Derek blinks, not daring to believe his ears. "You... what?"

"I never said... It's not that I don't want you in the pack. It's that I want it too much. You mean... too much to me to risk losing you for any of the reasons that I might just because you're a human in a pack of wolves."

"So turn me. If that's the only thing keeping you away from me, _turn me_."

But Stiles just shakes his head. "Not if I'm the only reason you're asking for the bite."

Derek throws his hands up in frustration. "So, what, I don't even get to decide whether or not I'm going to go on being human? How the hell does that make sense? It's my life, Stiles, and I'll do what I want with it."

"So what do you want?"

Stiles' voice is quiet and scared, and it makes Derek pause. "I want...." Derek takes a deep breath, using the time to think. But at the look in Stiles' eyes, the answer is obvious. "I want to spend it with you."

Stiles presses Derek up against the side of Laura's car and leans in close, pressing his face into his neck and taking a deep breath. "Well, if _you're_ so sure that you're mine, then why shouldn't _I_ be?"

Derek grins, and wraps his arms around Stiles. "That's what I've been saying for years."

Stiles snorts. "Don't get ahead of yourself, short stuff."

"Hey!" Derek's indignant shout turns into a high squeak when Stiles pinches his sides under his shirt.

Stiles pulls back, grinning at him. Then he pinches Derek again, eyes glinting at the way he shrieks and rears up a bit. "Shirt off then, short stuff."

"I thought I told you not to-- _oh_."

Stiles' grin widens from where he's kneeling on the ground in front of Derek, hands strong on his hips, and for an instant, Derek feels like the months of training haven't done enough for his physique. Because Stiles was pretty clearly _born_ to be beautiful. (He doesn't know that Stiles would laugh at him for even thinking that, not with the way he looked in middle school. All awkward gawky limbs, and Stiles will never let him see the pictures, but Derek would just think he was beautiful anyway.) Stiles was born to be beautiful and Derek is just--

Just being licked by the man of his dreams _oh my god is this happening right now?_

Stiles' tongue is slick and hot where it runs the cut of Derek's hipbones and Derek has to press his fingers against the car to keep from just thrusting against him right then and there. Stiles laughs against him, like he knows what Derek's thinking -- which Derek has always sort of suspected, to be honest -- and goes right on dragging his tongue up Derek's side, long and slow and steady, pushing at Derek's shirt as he goes. Derek lifts his arms obligingly when Stiles gets there, letting him slip the shirt over Derek's head. The second it's been discarded, Stiles leans back in, nosing at Derek's jaw. Derek tilts his head back instinctively, offering Stiles his neck. He feels Stiles smile against him, nipping at the skin there in approval. Derek swallows reflexively, arching harder against Stiles, trying to tell him without words what he wants.

Stiles pulls away slightly, leaning over him (and, fuck, when had he slid down far enough that Stiles is towering over him like he's 16 again?) with his lips a hair's breadth away from Derek's. Derek doesn't dare _breathe_ while he waits. But then Stiles, the fucker, just darts around to bite at his earlobe and whisper _gotcha_ before he falls to his knees again, immediately going back to licking and sucking his way across Derek's stomach. Derek whines and slides a hand around to grip at the back of Stiles' head, but Stiles just bites at his hip (which definitely doesn't make Derek's knees go a little weak -- _definitely_ not) and snarls out a "If you want this, you've gotta let me do it my way," that has Derek's head snapping back against the sun warm metal of the car. Stiles licks over the rising bruise on his hip in apology before dragging his tongue all the way up Derek's other side.

Stiles does it twice more, once on either side of his chest, and by the end of it, Derek thinks he has the beginnings of an understanding of what he was doing, and just when Stiles is just about to move in for a real kiss, Derek's curiosity gets the better of him.

"Are you _marking_ me?" he whispers.

"Glad to see you haven't killed your brain in the booze at college, short stuff."

"I said--"

And then Stiles is closing his mouth over Derek's, and Derek sees no point in arguing.

Stiles is warm and solid against him, more muscle than anything else. His hair's still buzzed short, so Derek has nothing to hold onto when he reaches for the back of his head to pull him in close.

It's one thing he'd never looked for in a partner at school, because it was just a little too close to what he really wanted. The eyes, the smile, the build. In singles or even pairs of things that were Stiles-esque, Derek was fine. Wanted it, even. But the hair was something he'd never looked for. Too close to home. Now he sort of regrets it, while he scrabbles at the back of Stiles' head and tries to bring him in close.

Stiles just laughs against his mouth and moves down to suck bruises on Derek's neck. "Too much for you to handle?" he chides as Derek starts to shake against him.

"Not... on your life..." Derek pants, unable and unwilling to fight down the smile. Stiles chuckles and leans up to capture his mouth again, slipping his tongue into Derek's mouth effortlessly.

Derek is only a little ashamed of the wanton moan that slips into Stiles' mouth. He's finally figured out that he can get a hand in Stiles' t-shirt and maneuver him that way when Stiles hitches a hand under his thigh and lifts it to wrap around his waist. It lines them up just so, and Derek can feel his dick sliding next to Stiles', and, god, he feels sixteen again, like he could come just from this, just from being so close to Stiles. Stiles just chuckles darkly and coaxes Derek's other leg up as well. Then Derek's pinned, his entire weight spread between Laura's car and Stiles, and it gets him hotter than he expected it to.

"Maybe... we should take this inside?" he gasps when Stiles releases his mouth to bite at his jaw.

"Why?" Stiles whispers against his ear. "You don't want me to take you right here? Out in the open where anyone could see us? So everyone knows who you belong to?"

It's tempting, the thought of letting Stiles mark him in front of the whole world, but Derek fights the urge down and pulls back, presses a finger against Stiles' lips. "Not now," he says. "Not the first time I'm with you. When you've had me a few times, and you know how to take me apart and leave me breathless, or keep me waiting and wanting for hours, _then_ you can show me off to the world. But for right now? I want this to be _ours_."

Stiles stares at him. Then he laughs and shakes his head. "Always smarter than I give you credit for," he mutters. Then he slides a hand under Derek's ass and tilts him away from the car, taking all his weight in go in a way that has Derek flailing and wrapping his hands around Stiles' neck.

"Jesus, give a guy some warning, will you?" he snaps, but Stiles just laughs.

"Says the guy who had his sister show me pictures of him half-naked without warning."

"Hey, that was all her. I had nothing to do with what she did or didn't show you."

Stiles gives a dark grin, and presses Derek up against the door he hadn't realized they'd reached. "You know I can tell when you're lying to me," he whispers against Derek's neck, "don't you Derek?"

Derek just groans and arches against him, trying to get as close as he can. He's starting to rethink his policy on outdoor sex when Stiles twists the doorknob and only just catches Derek from tumbling to the floor.

Then he seems to notice the potential in that, and lowers them both to the floor anyway.

"This isn't what I meant when I said 'inside,' Stiles," Derek mutters while Stiles drags his canines (and, shit, when had Stiles started to shift? And why does Derek find it hot instead of terrifying?) along the line of his jugular.

"No, I imagine it wasn't." Then he draws back and bears his teeth, his eyes glowing. "But it'll certainly do, won't it."

Derek smacks him on the arm. "It most certainly will _not_ ," he snaps. "Not for my first time with someone. Not with _you_."

Derek has never seen Stiles revert to human so quickly. "First time?" he whispers. "But I thought. I mean Laura said. _First_?"

"Stiles, what are you--"

Stiles is on his feet, storming off so quickly that it leaves Derek reeling. He manages to prop himself up on his elbows in time to see Stiles disappear up the stairs.

Derek scrambles to his feet and almost trips in his haste to go after Stiles, but he really needn't have worried. He turns the corner just in time to see Stiles slam his fists into what must be a reinforced wall. Then he leans his head between them, breathing harshly.

"We had a deal, Derek."

"A deal?"

"Don't play dumb. You _know_ what I'm talking about."

Unfortunately, Derek does. "I've dated, Stiles," he snaps. "I have. It just. It never clicked. And I certainly wasn't going to _sleep_ with someone I didn't click with. Not when I knew I had you."

"That wasn't the deal!" Stiles roars, turning flashing eyes on Derek.

" _You're_ the one that decided the terms of the deal. I kept my word. I did everything you told me to. I did everything you told me to and _then some_." He pretends not to notice the way Stiles growls and stalks closer to him, claws edging out the end of his hands. "I did what you asked, but I never slept with any of them. Because that wasn't. The deal."

Stiles is slamming him up against the wall a second later, a rare display of the advantage his werewolf blood gives him over Derek. But Derek doesn't shy away, just stares Stiles down, strong and angry.

"That wasn't the deal."

And then Stiles' tongue is pushing into his mouth and Stiles is shoving at Derek's pants and Derek's stripping them off and tugging at Stiles' shirt and then he's touching more of Stiles' skin than he's ever he's ever had access to, at least when Stiles wasn't bleeding out in the vet clinic, (and, wow, now is _so_ not the time for that particular memory) and he's digging his nails into Stiles' shoulders, wishing for a moment that Stiles didn't heal so fast that his marks would never stay. The whine Stiles lets out against his mouth suggests that he has similar sentiments.

So Derek just pants against Stiles' mouth and pulls him closer by shoulder and hip, and then he's wrapping a leg around Stiles' waist and Stiles is lifting him again, and, man, if this is what banging a werewolf means, he'd have taken Natalia up on her offer in February. (Except that's a total lie, because that's a scent that never would have worn off; Laura had told him as much. Not to mention that half of why he's so turned on is because this is Stiles, would-be boyfriend of three years, and Derek finally has his hands all over him.)

Stiles is less than graceful when he drops Derek to the bed, but Derek honestly can't complain, because a second later Stiles is pressed up against him and they're horizontal now and, wow, that actually makes a difference. Especially when Stiles is bracketing his hips with his knees and pinning his wrists to the bed with his hands. Derek can tell that he would never be able to break this hold if Stiles wanted to keep him there, and, god, that shouldn't turn him on this much except it _does_.

He'd forgotten just how strong and solid Stiles is while he was at school, and being underneath him -- _properly_ underneath him, if all goes to plan -- is such a strong reminder that Derek's moaning and begging and rocking against Stiles in seconds.

"Stiles, Stiles, come on, please,  _please_."

Stiles just laughs and goes on rocking back against Derek. "Please what? What do you want?"

"Anything, Stiles. God, anything, anything, _everything_."

"Anything?"

"No, no, I said--"

"You said anything, Derek. That means _anything_."

Derek thinks he should probably be ashamed of how wild he sounds, but he can't be, not when it has Stiles sucking a bruise into the skin under his jaw. "Stiles, god, please, I just want you. Just... just _you_."

Stiles draws back, looking thoughtful. He goes on rocking his hips against Derek's, and Derek thinks it's _incredibly_ unfair that he can keep a straight face while Derek's falling apart underneath him.

" _Stiles_ \--"

"Anything, though," Stiles muses. "That certainly gives me a few options, now, doesn't it." Derek's struggling to form words, but Stiles goes right on talking over him. "Makes it hard to decide. Maybe I'll get you hard and begging and then tie you up and leave you here until I make up my mind." Derek whimpers, surprised at how much the idea intrigues him. But then Stiles tilts his head, looking thoughtful. "Maybe I'll fuck your mouth. Would you like that, Derek? Let me come down your throat so I'm under your skin like that?" Derek whines and reaches up to scratch at Stiles' shoulders, but Stiles just grins and finally-- _finally_ \--relents, slowing his hips and leaning down to kiss Derek's lips obligingly. And then. _And then_.

And then he starts kissing down Derek's chest, alternately biting at the already rising bruises on Derek's skin and sucking new ones into existence.

"Or maybe," he breathes out over the fabric still covering Derek's dick, "I'll let you fuck _my_ mouth. Do you want that, Derek?" he asks, nosing at him while Derek whines. "Want to own me just as much as I want to own you?"

"Stiles, please, I need--"

"What do you need?" Stiles breathes out against his belly, and Derek can't stop the gasp while he arches up, trying to get closer. Then Stiles pulls back and he must see effects of the way Derek hasn't been able to keep from biting his lips, trying to keep the noises down. "You need something in that mouth of yours?"

"Yes, yes, anything, please--"

And then Stiles is sliding two fingers over his tongue and Derek could scream with relief, but he doesn't. Instead he just sucks them in and works them like he'd work Stiles' dick. Stiles may be offering him everything he wants right now, but Derek wants to make sure he doesn't give Stiles any reason to leave.

Stiles seems to sense his misgivings, and leans up, sliding his tongue into Derek's mouth alongside his fingers while he palms Derek with his other hand. Derek just pants and gasps and sends up a prayer to anyone listening that this won't end anytime soon.

But then Stiles is pulling away, mouth and fingers both, to push Derek's boxers off, dart back in, and go on licking at his stomach and hips. Derek tries not to squirm every time his dick pushes against Stiles' neck and chest, but then Stiles turns and mouths over the shaft and Derek gives up on restraint.

"Stiles, Stiles, _please_ \--"

Then Stiles is sinking his mouth down over him and Derek _can't breathe_.

"Stiles--"

Stiles hollows his cheeks out and drags his mouth up as he sucks his way up to the head of Derek's dick. Derek can't keep his hands still, moving them from the sheets to Stiles' shoulders to his own hair while he tries to keep from coming in three seconds flat. Stiles chuckles around him and Derek almost bites through his tongue to keep from shouting. Between one blink and the next Stiles moves on to tonguing just under the head of Derek's dick before sliding off and mouthing back down around it, lips warm and tight where they half circle him and then they're closing over the head again and oh; _oh_.

" _Stiles_ \--"

Derek gets his nails into the back of Stiles' head in something like a warning, but Stiles just growls around him, and then Derek is coming hard enough to see stars.

The next thing he knows, Stiles is smiling down at him, propped up on an elbow with his head resting on his palm. When he seems to be certain that Derek's coming out of his stupor, he leans down and brushes his lips against Derek's while his still-hard cock presses against Derek's hip. Derek drags himself out from under the haze of his orgasm and pushes at Stiles' shoulder until he rolls over obligingly, still holding a hand at the base of Derek's head to guide the gentle brush of lips into a deeper kiss that tastes like Derek's come and leaves him groaning before he starts to kiss his own way down Stiles' chest to his hips.

"Derek," Stiles laughs out, "Derek, wait."

"Don't wanna," Derek mumbles against the crease of his thigh. "Wanna suck you.

Stiles' breath and hips both stutter at that, and Derek lets himself mouth at Stiles dick through the jeans he'd forgotten Stiles was still wearing. He starts tugging at them impatiently, but Stiles grabs him by the neck and drags him back up to suck Derek's lower lip into his mouth. Derek fights him -- now that he has the chance he _really_ wants to go down on Stiles, thank you very much -- but eventually lets himself be distracted by the way Stiles slides his fingers over the line of his throat, and the press of Stiles' canines against his tongue while they kiss.

But it doesn't stop him from rubbing at Stiles' erection, trying to coax him into relenting and letting Derek get him off. But Stiles just rolls them over until he's pressing Derek into the bed and murmuring "You can go right ahead if you want, Derek, but I figured you'd want something more tonight."

Derek feels his throat go dry and his heart start trying to jump out of his chest, but he shakes it off. "Later," he insists, "later. Wanna suck you first."

Stiles kisses over his jaw and up to his cheek. "Alright."

Derek takes half a second to contemplate undoing the zipper on Stiles' jeans with his teeth before he realizes he has no idea how to do that, and that having just come is doing nothing for his coordination. So he noses at Stiles' jaw and goes for his jeans with his hands instead, undoing them in slow, careful movements. Stiles sits up on his knees and pulls them off obligingly after Derek takes too long shoving ineffectively at them. Derek uses the distraction to slide down the bed until his head is resting under Stiles' hips and tilts his head back, looking up at where Stiles is staring at him, wide-eyed and disbelieving.

Derek just grins. "You said you'd fuck my mouth, didn't you?" Stiles looks lost for words, but Derek just grins even wider. "Go on, then," he chides, opening his mouth pointedly.

Stiles drops forward onto his elbows and spreads his knees with a groan before tilting his hips down to ease the head of his dick into Derek's mouth. Derek tilts his head a bit to match Stiles' angle and wraps his lips around the head of Stiles' dick, sliding the tip of his tongue against it, given that that's as far as he can reach it at this point. The touch sends Stiles' hips stuttering forward, and Derek has to fight a smile from his lips. Instead, he just gives a single, strong suck that has Stiles whimpering and giving an aborted thrust deeper into his mouth.

When he starts to pull away, Derek reaches up before he can think about it, grabbing at Stiles' hips and pulling him in close, whining at the threat of losing this. Stiles tugs Derek's hands from his hips and takes both of them in one of his, pressing them to the bed. He puts his other hand on Derek's shoulder, easing out while Derek whines and writhes, trying to break Stiles' hold so he can go back to sucking him.

Stiles only waits a moment before leaning down and sliding his tongue into Derek's mouth, licking at the roof of it as he goes. Derek keeps trying to slip out of the hold until Stiles bites at his lip, sending a spark through him that has his dick getting interested in the proceedings again.

"As hot as that is," Stiles murmurs against the corner of Derek's mouth, "the last thing I want to do is choke you before I've had a chance to make you properly mine."

Derek whines and turns to try to steal another kiss, but Stiles just pulls away. "Come on, Stiles, just let me." And then Derek's world is tilting while Stiles manhandles him around to settle on his knees on the floor, Stiles' thighs spread around his shoulders.

Stiles leans down so his face is right up close to Derek's. "Seeing you on your back just makes me want to take everything you don't seem to know you're offering." The hint of fang belies the intensity of the control he must be exerting to stay human.

Derek groans and bares his throat, instinct and desire winning out over whatever self-preservation has kept him alive for the last three years. Stiles groans and leans even closer, mouth opening so he can bite down on the exposed skin. Derek grabs out for Stiles' knees, forcing himself to stay upright while Stiles' teeth tighten on his skin.

Slowly, Stiles draws back. "But if you're sure." And then Derek's face-to-dick with Stiles again. "Go right ahead."

Derek wastes no time sliding down over Stiles, going down as far as he can before he feels his gag reflex start to kick in. He draws back, choking slightly while he catches his breath, but then he's darting right back in, Stiles' dick heavy and present on his tongue. He indulges in two strong sucks before he's drawing back enough to suck lightly at the head.

He hears a soft _fwump_ from somewhere above him that he assumes means Stiles has given up on staying upright and has fallen back against the bed. But when he lifts his head to check, Stiles' hand slides into his hair, holding him in place. Derek knows the command for what it is and takes just enough time to suck in a breath through his nose before he slides back down as far as he can. Then he swallows around the head of Stiles' dick, satisfaction coiling in his belly when Stiles' hand tightens in his hair and stutters like Stiles is fighting the urge to press him down further. Derek reaches a hand up to wrap around Stiles' thigh, squeezing it in an attempt to let him know that he can do whatever he wants. Stiles' hand twists even tighter in his hair, and then Derek's being pulled off completely so Stiles can kiss him. Derek lets him for a brief moment, but then he's crawling on top of Stiles in the bed and turning around so he can put his shins on Derek's upper arms, keeping them in place.

"Just let me," he insists. And then he plants his hands beside Stiles' hips and sucks him down in one motion. Stiles actually howls at that, hips jerking up into Derek's mouth so sharp and fast that Derek has to let up a bit rather than take it all. But he sucks in a breath through his nose and goes right back to what he was doing. He takes his time, alternating between sucking and swallowing in a way that has Stiles' fingers wound tight in his hair, alternately encouraging and trying to tug him off.

Aside from that one howl, Stiles is strangely quiet throughout the entire thing. He's such a smooth talker the rest of the time that Derek had always assumed he'd be the same way in bed. Instead, he's all choked off gaps and half-swallowed moans and not a single word slips past his lips while Derek goes down on him. All of which just means that when Stiles whispers Derek's name while he thrusts up hard into his mouth and comes is more satisfying than anything Derek could have asked for.

Derek doesn't quite manage to swallow everything, and what he doesn't slides out of his mouth and down his chin. When Stiles, still coming down from his orgasm, catches sight of him, he just groans and tugs on Derek's hair, making him turn and move up toward him. Stiles licks the come off his neck and chin before kissing his mouth, tongue chasing the last of himself from Derek's mouth in a way that has them both groaning.

Derek's half-hard again by this point, but when Stiles reaches down in an attempt to get him off again, Derek just whimpers and pushes at Stiles' hand.

"Not yet," he whispers against Stiles' mouth; "too soon."

Stiles just gives him a predator's grin and one last strong tug that has Derek giving an aborted thrust into his hand and gasping for a breath he can't quite manage. Stiles takes the advantage he's just been given and rolls them over, kissing Derek breathless again and again and again until Derek's dizzy and lightheaded but still can't stop the way his fingers are pressing into Stiles' shoulders, urging him on, urging him _closer_., and all he can think is that this is what he has to look forward to now.

They're not done -- not by a long shot -- but this is certainly a good way to start.


End file.
